You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting 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 yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture motorcycle style meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an appearance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘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 says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning performing in the London theater in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and young Jessica has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
