You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for a decade, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies 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 beams. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away 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, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal four months ago and my right breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
