You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an open book, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The first single, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with the disease. A month later she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an appearance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. 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 viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, 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 fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my affected breast now resembles a odd shape.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her chest, she notes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! It’s funny because 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.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already beginning starring in the West End in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
