You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was meant as an candid account, tackling every moment of pain she’d faced since she last made an album (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly coping with breast cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group the group while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
