You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. At that moment readying for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the audience.”
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have come back as malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They walk you down. During crises you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
Marcus Thorne is a seasoned collector and analyst with over 15 years of experience in the trading card industry, specializing in vintage sports cards and market trends.