You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly coping with the disease. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an appearance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her youth, already beginning featuring in the London theater in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and young Jessica has entered the girl group Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
