You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last 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 breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, birth name Jessica Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while all the while coping with breast cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was preparing for an appearance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘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 rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after a long hiatus and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
