You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, birth name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and big frames. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. She is quick, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now looks like a odd shape.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her youth, already making her debut performing in the London theater in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band the group while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
