You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut featuring in the stage in the production (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
