You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, broken romances, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time living with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with ornate white designs, off-white boots and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”
She was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact on the Monday. By then the singer had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a odd shape.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness 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 entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, 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 year.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
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