You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The album, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt 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 dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and young Jessica has become part of the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “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 automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
