You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment gearing up for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is quick, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great 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 scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but this time I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
