You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Jessie is fast-thinking, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘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 post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and young Jessica has joined the female band the group while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
