I can't remember much of last night's dream... I was sitting in a hospital corridor or waiting area. Other people arrived. I gave a ten dollar note to Col (can't remember why). Someone indicated that Mum was in the west wing of the hospital. I headed there, which involved going outside and going into a portable. It was more like a school setting than a hospital.
The room was decorated with interesting tidbits. At the front, near the entrance, an Indian looking man with something like a turban on his head was playing an instrument. He was playing a particular Gipsy Kings song (no wonder Mum had attended this therapy session). It turned out he was just playing along to a backing tape. Actually, a normal recording from a live performance; there was faint applause at the end.
Patients seated in a circle with legs out straight were tapping and clapping along to the music. Mum was just to the right hand side of the Indian man. I went to her and broke down in tears. I think that was because she looked well, but was clearly on the path to death and it was now too late to help, as I perhaps could have done earlier (or so I felt in this dream).