You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an open book, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and oversized specs. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, irreverent and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and teenage Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
