You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, birth name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later next release, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is quick, bold and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an appearance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be fine, 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 shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut performing in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia 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 several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
