You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was intended as an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly coping with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an slot at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but now I just marched with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
