You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment gearing up for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly coping with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning performing in the stage in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and teenage Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
