You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. There she was readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, birth name Jessica Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly dealing with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down 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 blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut starring 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 tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
