You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show in the coming year. “I like entertaining. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now resembles a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has joined the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
