You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was getting ready for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a gown on and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! It’s funny because 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
She is familiar with health problems. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
