You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then next release, Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is quick, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful 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 found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. Frequently they align with career highs, acting as a reminder, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and young Jessica has become part of the female band the group 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 the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
