You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while all the while living with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. She is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already starting her career starring in the stage in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and teenage Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
