You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was intended as an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, bold and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘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 tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and young Jessica has become part of the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
