Northwest Eye Care ProfessionalsOur accessibility design.
Why every visual and interaction choice in the NWECP brand is a clinical decision — and how to keep it that way.
Accessibility is the treatment plan
Our patients arrive with visual systems that are healing. After a concussion, brain injury, or stroke, ordinary web pages can be physically difficult: glare triggers photophobia, dense text deepens reading fatigue, and movement on screen can provoke dizziness or nausea. For most brands, accessibility guidelines are compliance. For us they are clinical care — the same care we give in the exam room, extended to every page, document, and sign we produce.
Our approach aligns with Apple's Human Interface Guidelines on accessibility: sufficient contrast, never color alone to convey state, generous hit targets, reduced motion respected, and zoom never disabled. The rules below are binding on everything we ship.
The rules, and the reasons
Here, creativity meets opportunity. Whatever you're building, we're here to help you take the first step with confidence. Driven by curiosity and built on purpose, this is where bold thinking meets thoughtful execution. Let’s create something meaningful together.
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Photophobia is common after brain injury, and a #FFFFFF page is a wall of glare. Our lightest surface is parchment #F2F0EA; cards lift to #FAF9F5, never white. Text is deep-slate ink #26333B, never black — maximum-contrast edges shimmer for sensitive eyes.
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Reading fatigue is a symptom we treat, so we never make a patient work to read. Body text is 18px or larger with 1.65 leading, and line length is capped at 68 characters — short enough that healing eyes can find the next line reliably.
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Slate blue #33587A holds 5.4:1 contrast on the parchment page; text on accent is always cream #F5F3EC. We use one accent family only, because every additional color is one more thing a recovering visual system has to decode.
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State always pairs color with text or shape — an underline, a border, a label. A patient with reduced color discrimination should never have to guess what a color means.
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Movement on screen can trigger neuro-visual symptoms, so there is almost none: no autoplay, no parallax, no scroll animation. The only transition is a .15s background-color ease on buttons — and even that sits inside the prefers-reduced-motion kill switch.
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Motor control can be affected after injury, so buttons and links are large and well separated. Keyboard focus is a 3px ink outline with 3px offset — the highest-contrast ring we can draw, never a color code. A skip link is the first focusable element on every page
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Patients magnify freely on every page. We never set maximum-scale or user-scalable=no, and layouts reflow cleanly at 200% zoom.
Language is accessibility too
Cognitive load is part of the visual system's burden, so our words follow the same rules as our pixels. Plain language leads and jargon follows: “eyes that don't team well,” with convergence insufficiency in the body. Wayfinding is text-first — no icon set to decode. Headlines use patients' own words. Logistics are stated honestly, with the why: “Neuro-visual evaluations run 1–2 hours — much longer than a routine exam, because…”
And there is always a human path: “Prefer to talk? Call us — you talk to people not bots.”

