You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe 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, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ 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 fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just walked with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? 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 recalls to her childhood, already starting her career featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the girl group Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
