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    Married to Medicine Houston Recap

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 9: Havana Sights and a San Antonio miracle

    Kaitlin Steinberg
    Dec 30, 2016 | 9:01 pm

    It’s the final countdown, ladies and gents, the second-to-last episode of Married to Medicine Houston (probably ever), which means storylines that we’ve been following all season are finally coming to some sort of resolution.

    Like the damn Havana Nights fundraiser. How many episodes have we been hearing about this ode to old Cuba that will fund the dental area of the new wellness center? The anticipation is killing me. But we’re finally here, at some warehouse-type event venue in Montrose, a neighborhood that seems to be somewhat of a mystery to Ashandra and Rachel when they arrive. I don’t know where you ladies normally hang out, but welcome to Montrose. We have great restaurants, great dive bars and many of the gays. It’s a magical place.

    Not so magical (yet) is the event venue, which is pretty bare bones, but Rachel is confident she can turn it into Cuba in no time. Theresa Roemer (of closet fame) joins the group to discuss the fashion show that will take place at the fundraiser. Ashandra jokes that because Theresa's so buff, she could be security at the event, and I would LOVE to see that.

    Next we catch up with Derika, who enjoy a rare lunch meetup at Croissant Brioche in Rice Village. They chat about what area of medicine Derek might go into after residency, and, over a slice of cake and a ham quiche, the words “colon surgery I love” and “hand-sewn colon anastomosis” come out of Derek’s mouth. The pure delight with which he states, “Colo-rectal sounds super appealing” is actually kind of adorable if you don’t think about it too hard.

    After the news that having a baby is going to be harder than they expected, Derek and Erika have taken a break from all the complicated medical stuff and are trying things the old-fashioned way. Then Derek says he might want to move back to Abilene to work, and I just want to remind him that this is what Abilene looks like. And this is what Houston looks like. I rest my case.

    To salvage her failing relationship, Monica has traveled to San Antonio to visit Imad, since usually he has to come visit her in Houston. Apparently he’s not expecting her, and surprising a dude who can’t commit to anything sounds like a greeeeeat idea. He does seem pleased to see her, though, so I’m the surprised person in this situation.

    I don’t know if it’s because he was at work when Monica showed up so he had to be on his best behavior or if he’s more comfortable in San Antonio or what, but this is the nicest I’ve ever seen Imad. He was almost charming, which freaks me out much more than when he’s being an asshole. I don’t know how to handle these feelings of compassion toward him. I hope he does something rude again soon so I can get back to a state of equilibrium.

    Back at the event space for the Havana Nights fundraiser, Theresa is casting models for her fashion show, and Ashandra, Pegah and Rachel practice their runway walks, as they’ll be modeling as well. Theresa says Ashandra walks like a stripper, and Rachel walks like a chihuahua, so this is one fashion show you won’t want to miss.

    The next day, Monica wakes up at Imad’s house in San Antonio and tries to make breakfast. Evidently, she can’t cook. Like, she can’t even make eggs. But girlfriend can fix hearts, so no judgment here.

    Then, finally, they start talking about their issues. Imad thinks Monica needs to allow her parents to get to know him. They’ve never met because Monica worries that they won’t be cool with the fact that Imad is Muslim or that he’s a chauvinistic jerk. She admits to having residual issues from her past relationship, but Imad convinces her that they need to move forward, so Monica calls her parents right then to make plans to introduce them to Imad.

    Throughout this whole exchange, Imad was…like…nice. And understanding. He even ate Monica’s shitty eggs. Am I in the Twilight Zone? Quick, Imad, say something awful so I can go back to hating you! I don’t know how to function in this brave, new world!

    Party time

    Later, in a universe where people are staying true to their characters and not messing with my head, Imad, the ladies are preparing for the Havana Nights fundraiser in different ways. Rachel and Maribel are getting spray tans, Erika is getting her makeup done while wearing bloody scrubs, and Pegah picks Elly’s nose for her, because that’s what sisters do. I mean, I think. I’m an only child. Is that what sisters do? It’s weird.

    The venue for the fundraiser has indeed been transformed, with palm fronds and flowy white fabric and…giant gilded love seats? Eh, whatever, it works. Not working so much are all the damn fedoras in the building. It’s like the only thing people know about Cuba is that people there wear fedoras, but they’ve been so woefully co-opted by hipsters in recent years that all the party-goers look like they’re wandering around trying to find the best mixology joint in Brooklyn.

    Apparently the venue is incredibly hot, though, so that fits perfectly with the theme. Props for authenticity there, guys.

    Then the fashion show begins, and, thankfully none of the non-models in the show take it too seriously and try to Ramona Singer down the runway. J. Michael, creator of crazy hats and wearer of obnoxious tutus, stands up and starts dancing as Ashandra walks down, though, and I want to tell him to sit the fuck down and stop trying to steal her thunder!

    At the end of the event, Ricky announces that the silent auction raised $14,000, which is a little shy of the $50,000 goal and a lot shy of the $500,000 that Ashandra initially said was needed for the wellness center to open its dental practice. But aside from the intense sweating, the party was deemed a success. Rachel got to show Cindi Rose that she can throw an event, Erika got to show Maribel that she can dress for a theme, and Ashandra got to give back to her community.

    San Antonio surprise

    Surprisingly, things are going well in San Antonio, too, where Monica is joining Imad for his brother’s birthday party. Monica’s family has never met Imad, but she is fairly close with his family, particularly his sister-in-law Suzie, who serves as a couples counselor for the pair and probably has to see a therapist of her own because of it.

    Imad tells Suzie that he wants to make things work with Monica, but he feels like she’s never willing to compromise — she wants to get married and have kids on her timeline and in her city. He also reveals that he bought a ring to propose to Monica, but he keeps changing his mind about doing it. And then…crap, he doesn’t say anything remotely offensive or misogynistic. Well, that’s disappointing. I’m feeling things for Imad that I never knew I could feel…like understanding…sympathy…not pure hatred.

    This is very unsettling. Fortunately, it looks like he’s back to his smarmy ways in the next episode, and thank god for that. Actually kind of liking Imad is more than I can bear.

    -----------------

    Next up: The Season Finale. Previous recaps:

    Here's everything that happened on the first episode of Married to Medicine Houston

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 2: Holi Moley, pole dancing, and a visit to the dog wash

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 3: Crawfish drama and other cheesy moments

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 4: Cindi Rose returns, praise Monica!

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 5: Shabbat ShalOMG!, iPhone love and shots for everyone

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 6: Imanchild, hot mama, and restaurant confrontation

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 7: It's time to party with the Mad Hatters!

    Married to Medicine Houston Recap Episode 8: Twinkle, Twinkle...how bizarre!

    Theresa, send from left, says Ashandra, left, walks like a stripper, and Rachel, second from right, walks like a chihuahua, so this is one fashion show you won’t want to miss.

    Married to Medicine Houston episode 9 fashion show, Theresa Roemer, Rachel, Ashandra
    Photo courtesy of Bravo
    Theresa, send from left, says Ashandra, left, walks like a stripper, and Rachel, second from right, walks like a chihuahua, so this is one fashion show you won’t want to miss.
    tv
    news/entertainment

    Creed concert review

    Creed serve up millennial nostalgia at pyro-packed RodeoHouston concert

    Craig Hlavaty
    Mar 11, 2026 | 11:54 pm
    Creed concert RodeoHouston
    Courtesy of Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo
    Singer Scott Stapp serenades the RodeoHouston crowd.

    Hello, my friend, we meet again.

    I’ve had a torrid relationship with Creed. As a circa-2000s punk rocker, it was implied that I was supposed to hate them. Nevertheless, I enjoyed those hook-laden Mark Tremonti riffs and Scott Stapp’s burly, Bono-grasping vocals, with just a hint of irony deep in the mix. I had “One Last Breath” on a burned mix CD, bunched in with Fugazi, Rancid, and Sham 69. I would skip it as quickly as I could, depending on who was in the car. Driving home from a long day slinging milk in the Kroger dairy cooler? Windows down, Stapp up.

    When I began my music journalism career 20 years ago (!!!), I began sticking up for them, much to the consternation of a lot of my fellow writers who were hung up on stuff that was supposed to be cooler and hipper. Creed’s pop-culture zenith came right as The Strokes and The White Stripes were thrust on us by the music press as a counter to post-grunge, which other music writers were categorically allergic to. Remember when our biggest problems in America were bands that were overtly influenced by Pearl Jam and Alice In Chains?

    In 2012, I interviewed lead singer Scott Stapp along the way for the Houston Press, and I distinctly recall Stapp being confused on our call that a guy from a smug alt-weekly wasn’t asking him stupid questions or making fun of his leather pants. The band was heading to Houston for a two-night stand at the Bayou Music Center in 2012 when they played 1997’s “My Own Prison” and 1999’s “Human Clay” in their entirety.

    Fun fact: “Human Clay” has sold over 20 million albums alone, besting Nirvana’s “Nevermind” and Pearl Jam’s “Ten” by only a relatively small margin. Creed moved more physical CDs when people actually bought music.

    Somehow, along the way, people stopped hating Creed and Nickelback, and the hate gave way to pre-social media, millennial high school, and pre-9/11 nostalgia. The similarly maligned Nickelback sold out the rodeo in 2024.

    On Wednesday, March 11, I saw junior high school kids wearing crispy new Creed shirts with their parents. Gen Alpha is beginning to get curious about what mom and dad were up to during spring break 2001, and Zoomers are rediscovering Y2K fashions. Haven’t you seen those “Mom, What Were You Like In The ‘90s?” memes?

    Creed has been sold out for weeks, drawing 70,007 attendees. If you had told someone 10 years ago that Creed would sell out RodeoHouston, they would have been skeptical. And yet here we are, staring down at a sold-out Creed show. These things run in cycles. Emotions fade. Annoyance turns into wistfulness for the days of Nokia brick phones and 99-cent gas. You can even go on a Creed Cruise now.

    Creed hit the stage just before 9:30 pm, an enviable bedtime for most elderly millennials, kicking off with the TOOL-chugalug of “Bullets,” with Stapp and Tremonti making the best use of their stage platforms, crucial devices for any major rock band in the 2000s. Unrelenting pyro shot from the dirt surrounding the stage every time Stapp lifted or flailed his arms like Elvis if he discovered cardio.

    The dirge of “Torn” — the second single from My Own Prison — was pyro-less, likely giving the cannons a few minutes to cool off. The sweaty Stapp, at just 52, looks to be in better shape than he did 20 years ago, now sporting a conservative haircut like he stepped out of his company’s stadium suite or finished a twilight run at Memorial Park.

    Stapp introduced “My Own Prison” with a preachery pep talk that wouldn’t sound out of place at an altar call at Sturgis. The crowd hung on every emphatic word. Maybe seeing two middle-aged dudes wearing Stryper shirts down on the concourse made more sense than I realized. Is Creed actually just TOOL that accepted Christ? The graphics behind the band could’ve fooled me.

    Stapp introduced “One” with a speech on commonalities and love. Looking back, Creed’s lyrics were much too earnest, hitting at a time when critics were still hungover from grunge.

    During “With Arms Wide Open,” the rodeo cameras would routinely cut to tattooed dads and rocker chicks in the crowd playing air guitar along with Tremonti and singing their guts out like they did the first time they heard it on 94.5 The Buzz. For a large segment of the crowd, they might have had a Gen-X parent jamming this stuff on the way to school in the morning.

    “Are you ready to get higher in here, Houston?” Stapp yells. The place erupts as “Higher” starts. Stapp was in his element, pyro shooting off, his silver jewelry dangling, taking in the crowd, like he didn’t expect such a response.

    Possibly the last true rock power ballad ever recorded, “One Last Breath,” got the biggest screams of the night; it might also be the Gen-Z “Don’t Stop Believing” as long as we’re making wildly controversial statements. [Editor’s note: Isn’t that Mr. Brightside? -ES]

    Welcome back, Creed, from pop-culture purgatory, and props for what might have been the loudest RodeoHouston show in years.

    SETLIST

    Bullets
    Torn
    Are You Ready?
    My Own Prison
    What If
    One
    With Arms Wide Open
    Higher
    One Last Breath
    My Sacrifice

    Creed concert RodeoHouston

    Courtesy of Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo

    Singer Scott Stapp serenades the RodeoHouston crowd.

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