You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, birth name Jessica Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later second single, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time coping with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an slot at the awards show when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is familiar with health problems. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band the group while studying at the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees