A tech journalist and software developer with a passion for exploring how emerging technologies shape everyday life and business solutions.
You can’t imagine it, the singer says. There she was readying for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, broken romances, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I love making people laugh. During performances I often tease the audience.”
She was getting ready for an appearance at the awards show when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has joined the female band the group while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
A tech journalist and software developer with a passion for exploring how emerging technologies shape everyday life and business solutions.