Daphne Nizza Shaw, M.D.

Growing up in Houston, Texas, Daphne Nizza (not “Shaw” until later) liked and admired her pediatrician but REALLY did not like shots. Ultimately, she tolerated vaccines for the same reasons most other kids did – the bribes and bargains surrounding them.  She found that getting a shot—however unpleasant—earned her a plastic finger puppet from her doctor, a stuffed animal from her mother, a bowl of pasta with fresh tomato sauce from her father, and lots of kisses of sympathy and attention from everyone.  It wasn’t too bad a deal, really.

But Daphne figured out she wanted to be the one to call the shots (literally), not just get them.  She first declared she wanted to be a doctor at the age of 4, when she started “practicing” with a plastic doctor’s kit, toy medical supplies (including a play syringe) and soap and water “medications.”  Her patients were her stuffed animals and a fluffy live cat who endured many pretend shots and Band-aids stuck to his fur.  “This is going to hurt a little,” she’d say, “but it will be over soon.” That cat lived to a ripe old age of 19, so maybe the tender loving care did him good!

With sights set on being a real doctor, Daphne hit the books.  She went from The Kinkaid School in Houston to Princeton University and then finally Baylor College of Medicine for medical school and pediatrics residency training. During training, she saw and took care of enough kids with infections to bring her appreciation of vaccines and preventative care to a whole new level.

Daphne married Carl Shaw in early residency, and before long, both were “Dr. Shaw.”  The couple moved and practiced medicine in the Denver area for three years, and it was there that their first child was born and the poem “No Shots for Me” came to be.  Ultimately, though, they moved back home to Houston, where they work as part of the Texas Children’s Integrated Healthcare Delivery System. 

The Doctors Shaw have two young children, the older of which turned four just as the first copies of No Shots for Me arrived. So, while their little daughter enjoyed the colors and animal drawings of the book, their son read it with more immediate interest, knowing his 4 year-old doctor’s checkup and a few shots were in his near future.  The book boosted his courage . . . at least a bit. “I’ll get the shots, Mommy, if I need to,” he said, “as long as I can get Sponge Bob Band-aids.”  Phew—what a bargain!