You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘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 bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. 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 perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and young Jessica has entered the girl group the group while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
