You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies 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, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was getting ready for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the Monday. By then she had convinced 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 no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
