You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was planning an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient 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 [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but then I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her youth, already beginning featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio the group while studying at the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
