You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Then in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with her usual frankness. The first single, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Think motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already starting her career featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band the group while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
