You couldn't have asked for a better farewell for your final days in Canada. Monday is food poisoning day; too sick to get out of bed...except to be sick. Tuesday is find out you missed your exam day, but not due to said illness, but due to flakiness (read: inability to remember what day of the week it is). Wednesday is prostrate yourself in front of school administrators and beg for mercy and forgiveness to allow you to write a make-up exam, day. This goes surprisingly well, although your pride may or may not have a new asshole. Thursday is wake up feeling like shit and worry your going to be sick right before you leave day. The only solution at this point is to suck it up and deal with it.
You are going to Cuba, and it's going to fuckin' rock.