You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with the disease. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. 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 an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time I just marched 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 op. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the stage in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
