You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is quick, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but then I just walked with a medical attire and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my one side now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already making her debut performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band the group while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
