You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, 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 was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
