You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an test, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ 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 considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. 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.”
Past Medical Issues
She is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and young Jessica has become part of the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
