You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was getting ready for an slot at the awards show when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘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.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a gown on and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut performing in the London theater in a musical (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band the group while attending the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
