You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is quick, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I often tease the audience.”
The artist was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
Lena Hofmann ist eine erfahrene Journalistin mit Schwerpunkt auf Schweizer Politik und gesellschaftlichen Entwicklungen.