You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. There she was preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, birth name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly living with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in London. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is fast-thinking, bold and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an slot at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy recently and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio the group while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
