Steve Carstensen, DDS

This was a fantastic read!

Do you have patients who could benefit from this?

So many ways to get involved in 2026.

Which CE events are you heading to?

Here’s what caught my eye in the literature this week.

A recent article in PLOS ONE explored the effectiveness of lip taping to reduce sleep-related breathing issues. It was a thoughtful piece—one that showed some benefit in using lip tape for certain patients. But what really stood out was how the media picked it up.

Headlines started circulating warning that mouth taping could be dangerous—even suggesting the risk of asphyxiation. But here’s the thing: while the paper mentioned that as a theoretical risk, it didn’t cite any actual cases. Not one. And from what we know about the body’s reflexes and its ability to override airway obstructions, the idea that a small piece of tape could completely block someone’s ability to breathe just doesn’t hold up.

So, how do I talk about lip taping with patients? Simply: If it helps you breathe better, and you feel better using it, go ahead. It’s not a one-size-fits-all solution—but for some, it can support nasal breathing during sleep. And as long as it's used responsibly, I don’t believe it's dangerous.

It’s another reminder that context matters, especially when interpreting headlines about health.

Here’s something a patient reminded me of this week.

An 18-year-old athlete came to see me—he’s heading off to college this fall, full of potential. When I evaluated him, I could see several structural issues we could address: jaw position, tongue posture, possible need for expansion or future surgery. But that’s not what he came in for.

What mattered most to him right now was something very real: he didn’t want to snore and be embarrassed in a dorm room with new roommates.

And that moment reminded me—again—of how important it is to meet our patients where they are. He may not be ready for major interventions yet. But we can still help him today. We can still give him tools to sleep and feel better, right now, in this chapter of life.

That’s the balance we walk every day as dental professionals: understanding the full clinical picture while focusing on what matters most to the person in front of us.

In dentistry, we've always taken pride in prevention. From fluoride treatments to daily hygiene habits, we’ve emphasized protecting our patients from future problems. But as I’ve grown in my work with children and adults experiencing breathing challenges, I’ve found myself leaning toward a slightly different term—proactive.

When we see a child whose breathing, swallowing, or craniofacial growth isn’t quite on track, we don’t always know what conditions we’re preventing down the road. But what we can do is step in early with care and attention. That’s what proactive intervention is all about—recognizing when the craniofacial respiratory complex might need guidance, and offering support before bigger challenges emerge.

Our goal, as always, is to give these children their best shot at lifelong health—helping them breathe better, function better, and grow into the healthiest adults they can be. It’s a privilege to be part of that work.

I had the privilege of speaking at the Pacific Northwest Dental Conference recently—12 hours of lectures over two days! It was a full schedule, but I truly enjoyed every moment, especially seeing so many of you in the room, eager to learn and grow together.

One conversation really stayed with me. A dentist approached me after one of the sessions and shared concern for her niece who lives in Tehran, Iran. Thanks to the worldwide network we’ve built through the World Dental Sleep Society, the World Sleep Society, and global webinars, I was able to reach out to colleagues across the globe. Within hours, Dr. Derek Mahoney—an orthodontist from Australia with deep experience in airway—connected me with a trusted resource in Tehran.

So, a dentist in Seattle now has a pathway to help her niece across the world. That’s the beauty of what we’re building—a global community of professionals committed to supporting one another and ensuring that children everywhere have the chance to grow up with healthy breathing and full potential.

I’m deeply honored to be part of this movement with all of you.

Here’s a little story—and maybe a helpful reminder, too.

I recently went to one of my favorite record stores, High Voltage Records in Tacoma. A friend had given me a gift certificate, and I was excited to use it. I found an album by one of my favorite bands, Morphine—hard to come by, since the group isn’t around anymore. I brought it home, opened it up… and inside was a completely different record. Not Morphine. Just a mix-up in packaging from the label. And while the album inside was okay, it wasn't what I was expecting—and that made the whole experience a bit of a letdown.

It made me think about dentistry.

Patients come to our practices with expectations. Some are looking for support with airway concerns or are excited to learn about sleep and breathing. Others may have heard that your office offers advanced care beyond just “routine dentistry.” If they arrive ready to experience something special—and they’re met with something ordinary—they may leave disappointed.

So here's the takeaway: let’s make sure what we deliver matches what we promise. Our care, our communication, and our environment should all reflect the high level of service we want to be known for. Because when the label and the contents match? That’s when trust is built.

Here’s what the literature taught me this week.

While preparing for a lecture on pediatric sleep apnea, I reviewed the commonly cited classifications: less than one event per hour is “normal,” one to five is “mild,” five to ten is “moderate,” and above ten is “severe.” I found myself wondering—where did that actually come from?

So I dug into the research, and what I discovered is that those categories aren’t grounded in solid science. In fact, the foundational sources themselves say there’s no clear way to classify pediatric severity—and yet those same vague references keep getting cited over and over. It becomes a little circular.

The concern here is this: when we tell a parent their child has “mild” sleep apnea, it can take away the urgency. And the truth is, we don’t yet fully understand how disordered breathing impacts a child’s long-term health, development, or quality of life. So I believe we need to move away from that language.

Either a child has a sleep-related breathing disorder, or they don’t. And if they do, let’s not minimize it—let’s act. Because every child deserves the opportunity to grow and thrive with the best health possible.